Ivy
Hampton, Virginia
The rhythm of the week has settled back into something that almost feels normal. Mostly.
Sunday passed quietly, the kind of slow day that felt more like recovery than rest. Hadley stayed close, rarely more than a few feet away from me, as if the simple act of keeping me within arm’s reach might prevent the world from tilting unexpectedly again.
Kyler came over late morning with bagels, coffee, and the kind of easy steadiness that has always had a way of grounding both of us when things feel slightly off-balance.
He didn’t make a big deal about being there.
He just…was.
Present in the comfortable, familiar way he always has been for Hadley—helping her with a puzzle at the coffee table, listening with genuine interest while she described every detail of the airshow demonstration as though she had personally been responsible for Dalton’s success, and patiently allowing her to climb across the couch cushions to demonstrate what she called “the upside-down-rocket part.”
We didn’t talk about what happened after the demo.
We didn’t talk about the blue Honda.
We definitely didn’t talk about the fact that I fainted in a parking lot.
But I know he knows every last detail. He has all the right connections to all the right people and even if he didn’t, he’s not someone people say no to.
If there was awkwardness between us after my blunt confession about Dalton, it never surfaced.
The air didn’t feel strained or heavy the way I had expected.
If anything, everything felt… careful. Intentional.
Conversations stayed comfortably neutral or revolved entirely around Hadley, who seemed blissfully unaware of any shift in dynamic.
She’s forever a daddy’s girl and is always happiest when he’s around.
Now it’s midweek, soft sunlight stretching across the kitchen floor while Hadley sits at the counter eating yogurt and berries, swinging her legs absentmindedly.
One Converse sneaker is on her foot, the other abandoned on the floor beneath her chair despite the fact that I put both of them on.
Apparently expecting tasks to stay completed before eight a.m. is asking too much.
“You’re going to be late,” I remind her gently, sliding her stainless steel waterbottle with ballerinas on it into the side pocket of her light pink backpack.
“I am not,” she says confidently, not looking up.
“If you don’t finish eating soon, you will. Daddy will be here any minute.”
Her dark eyes meet mine and she smirks, looking way too grown and way too much like Kyler in this moment. “Good things are worth waiting for.”
I blink once. Then snort. “Excuse me? Where in the world did you learn that?”
She grins. “Daddy.”
My stomach twists wondering when and why he was using that phrase and slightly worried it once had everything to do with us.
A knock sounds at the door moments later, two quick taps followed by the polite pause which still feels strange considering how many years we shared a home.
“I’ve got it,” Dalton says, walking down the stairs dressed for work in his green flight suit, his light brown hair darker, damp from the shower.
“That’ll be Daddy, Had.” Suddenly she’s shoveling yogurt into her small mouth and basically inhaling raspberries.
Dalton opens the door to Kyler who stands on the porch dressed casually in jeans and a dark green long-sleeved henley. He’s carrying a drink container with three coffees in it. “Morning. I brought coffee,” he says with an easy grin.
“Morning,” Dalton replies, stepping aside to let him in.
Their interactions have settled into something surprisingly natural. There is still awareness of complicated territory, but neither of them seems interested in making it uncomfortable.
“Daddy!” Hadley climbs down from her chair and runs to Kyler who catches her easily without spilling the drinks.
“Hey, Had.” He kisses her on the cheek and then holds the coffees out to Dalton and me. “There’s two caramel lattes and one vanilla. I wasn’t sure what you like Dalton.”
“Thank you,” Dalton says, grabbing the vanilla latte. Noted. Not a caramel latte guy.
“You are my favorite person today,” I admit, reaching for my favorite, a caramel latte.
Kyler laughs. “Bold statement considering your boyfriend is standing right there.”
Dalton snorts softly under his breath as he leans back against the counter. “I respect the honesty,” he replies.
Boyfriend.
Is that what Dalton is? We haven’t defined it. Boyfriend feels official but also not enough for what we are.
“I missed you,” Hadley informs Kyler in a very serious tone and I love her extra in this moment for taking the heat off me.
“I saw you yesterday,” he reminds her.
“That was yesterday.”
“Ah, of course, it’s ancient history.”
She nods solemnly against his shoulder.
Kyler presses a quick kiss to the side of her head before setting her back on her feet, his hand lingering briefly at the back of her neck in an absent, affectionate gesture that I can’t help but smile at.
Kyler’s gaze shifts briefly back toward me, a subtle check-in. “You feeling okay today?”
“I am,” I assure him.
He studies me for half a second longer, the protective instinct he’s always carried impossible to shake.
He must believe me because his attention shifts back to our daughter. “Alright, Had, let’s get you to school.”
“Yay!” she squeals in delight taking her backpack from me.
Kyler crouches slightly so they’re eye level while adjusting the strap of her backpack. “Give Mommy a kiss goodbye.”
She launches herself at me, giving me a bear hug and a kiss. Then she pivots automatically toward Dalton, wrapping her arms around his waist in a quick squeeze. “Don’t crash your jet.”
My eyes widen.
Dalton chuckles, “I’ll do my best.”
Kyler straightens, picking up his caramel latte before pausing near the door.
“You’ll call if you need anything?” he asks me gently.
“I will.”
“I mean it.”
“I know.”
His expression softens slightly, satisfied. “Come on, peanut,” he says, nudging Hadley gently toward the door.
She glares up at him. “I am not a peanut.”
“You are approximately peanut-sized.”
“I am medium-sized.”
“Mmm, that’s questionable.”
She slips her hand into his easily. There’s something about his massive 6’3” muscular fame beside her tiny one that warms my heart. Regardless of the heartbreak that came when Kyler and I split, it was worth it. He is truly the best dad I could have imagined for Hadley.
“Bye!” she calls, already halfway out the door.
“Bye, sweetheart,” I reply.
Dalton holds the door open for them, offering Kyler an easy nod. Kyler returns it, then glances back over his shoulder at me and I get the feeling we’re all going to be okay.